Afterlife
by Tondor
Summary: A little story based on my view of the afterlife. Rating for violence and language.


Afterlife  
  
A young man named Muspel, with blue eyes, shoulder-length brown hair, and glasses, waited patiently in line for his judgment. He was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt with a black leather jacket. Not a biker jacket, just a jacket made of black leather. A black glove covered his right hand, and a small green drawstring pouch hung from a belt loop on his left side by a leather thong. Tied to the same thong was a small metal emblem designed to look like the Hammer of Thor. The young man was in no particular hurry. He knew he was in the wrong line, he just didn't know where he had to go in order to find the right line. So he waited patiently to reach the head of the line and ask directions. Who knew, maybe this was to be a last challenge before his judgment proper.  
  
After several tedious months, he finally reached the head of the line and stood calmly, looking into Jesus' eyes without flinching, a friendly smile on his face. "Excuse me," he said. "I died just recently, and I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere between my body and my afterlife. Where might I find Odin's throne room?"  
  
Jesus looked him up and down disapprovingly. "Empty your pockets and your pouch," he commanded. There was something in his tone that said he would brook no dissension.  
  
Muspel shrugged and proceeded to pull a few pencils and pens, a set of keys, a pocketknife and a wallet out of his pockets. He then opened his pouch and poured a set of worn and chipped runes out into his gloved hand. Surprisingly, none of these things turned to lead when they emerged. Jesus examined these objects with distaste. "No cross?" he asked.  
  
Muspel shrugged. "No. Why, should there be? All I want is directions."  
  
Jesus pointed down the left path. "I'm sorry," he said.  
  
Muspel looked down the left path and saw that it had an unpleasant sort of reddish glow at the end. He then looked down the right path and saw a cheerful golden glow at its end. He then turned back to Jesus. "Look, I'm not sure you get where I'm coming from. I am Asatru, and therefore not under your jurisdiction. All I want is directions to Odin's throne room."  
  
Jesus raised an eyebrow at him. "What you want is of no matter," he said. "You are not a Christian, therefore you must go to Hell."  
  
Muspel shook his head. "I sense a communication gap, which is surprising considering I'm talking to a deity that's supposed to be all- knowing." He sighed and decided to try a different tack. "Look, it's partially thanks to you that I am Asatru. Believe it or not, your manipulation played a big part in my conversion." He pointed to his left wrist. "See this scar?"  
  
Jesus looked at the wrist with some annoyance. "There is no scar there."  
  
Muspel patted him on the shoulder. "Good, glad to see your observation skills haven't deteriorated. Now," he spoke again, "You deliberately set circumstances up so as to put me out from under your rule. You did this so I would be better prepared to save as many people as I could when the Reckoning came. It came and went, and thanks in a small part to myself and in a much larger part to a few others, most of the human race survived. You still following me?"  
  
Jesus was beginning to get angry. "If you will kindly go down the path, you will reach your intended destination. Now please, go."  
  
Muspel was tiring of this game, but he forged patiently onward. "Why don't you ask your father then, eh? I'm beginning to think it was him and not you, though there would have to be one crapload of a family resemblance."  
  
Jesus bristled. "I and the father are one," he said. "All that he knows, I know, and all that I know, he knows."  
  
Muspel nodded. "Right. And that's exactly why your faith wavered on the cross.  
  
Jesus shook his head. "I had endured much suffering, and selfishness is part of human nature. I wanted to know why my feelings had not been considered."  
  
Muspel sighed. "Look, we could stand here and debate theology from now until Ragnarok and we wouldn't get anywhere. So just give me the directions I want and we'll call it even."  
  
Jesus bristled again, and his eyes began to glow faintly red. "Do as I tell you or suffer the consequences!" he shouted.  
  
Muspel was a little put off by this display. "Wait a minute. Aren't you supposed to be a really even-tempered kind of guy?"  
  
Jesus quickly calmed down. "Not when underlings refuse to do as they are told."  
  
Muspel nodded. "Uh-huh. Right." With that, he lashed out, punching the deity before him square on the nose.  
  
Jesus cried out as his nose started dripping blood. He growled low in his throat, his eyes glowing as if lit from behind by red lamps, his teeth beginning to lengthen and sharpen into fangs. "You dare…!" he cried. His right hand came up and slashed at Muspel's face, the nails now razor-like black claws. Muspel bent backward a little way and managed to get away with only part of his nose being torn off.  
  
"Damn right, I dare!" he yelled, and stepped in close, burying his gloved hand in the exposed impostor's belly. The breath left the monster's body in a combined gasp and scream as the marks on the boy's hand began burning into his flesh. He grabbed at Muspel's face, his claws digging furrows in the flesh of the boy's cheeks. Flicking his pocket knife open with his free hand, the boy began carving runes of banishing in the demon's forehead. "Ek vitki Muspel rist runar," he whispered.  
  
The demon shook and screamed, clawing at the young warrior-magician desperately as the rune magic began to take effect. Muspel stepped back and gave him a firm push on one shoulder. "Go screw a meat grinder, trollspawn." Just as the last word left his lips, the demon hit the ground and was reduced to a smoldering skeleton.  
  
The boy heard slow clapping coming from his right, and turned to look, his knife held at the ready. The plain man in the white robe nodded to him. "Very good. Very good indeed."  
  
Muspel hesitantly closed his knife. "Jesus?" he asked.  
  
The man nodded. "Indeed. I have see many things in my time, but a person who wasn't of my followers exposing a demon and banishing him was not one of them." He nodded slightly at the skeleton. "They are quite good at illusions, that much I will say for them. One of those they have worked especially hard to spread is that there is a system like this, with the line and all. In truth, I appear to every Christian at the moment of death and judge them personally."  
  
Muspel nodded. "Thank you. Now, could you please direct me to Asgard?"  
  
Jesus nodded in return. "Of course." He pointed to a tall yew tree growing a few yards away. "That is Yggdrasil. Climb it, and you will reach Asgard in due time."  
  
Muspel nodded again. "Thank you." With that, he walked over to the tree and began climbing.  
  
"Muspel!" Jesus called. Muspel looked over his shoulder from where he was perched in mid step. Jesus held up a small green pouch. "You forgot these!" He tossed them up.  
  
Muspel reached out and caught the pouch in his gloved hand. "Many thanks, Jesus!" As he tied the pouch back onto its belt loop, he waved. "Perhaps we'll meet again someday!"  
  
Jesus nodded and waved. "Perhaps!" With that, he disappeared in a flash of gold light.  
  
A/N: Reviews please! All flames will be used to keep warm at night (My room is freezing-brrrrr!)! 


End file.
